All That Is Required
by Bryon Nightshade
Summary: Alternate version of "R Destruction Order". Wily's plan was elegant and demanded a minimum of sacrifice. But Light and his children always were too selfless for their own good.
1. R is for Reasonable

_Disclaimer: Mega Man and its related characters and situations are copyright Capcom. This story is based on the Megamix stories of Ariga Hitoshi._

* * *

R is for "Reasonable"

* * *

 _All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing._

 _-Edmund Burke_

* * *

"I can't accept this!" Rock exclaimed. "There has to be something you can do!"

Rock looked young, and truthfully was, but deceptively so. He looked, in almost every regard, like a boy, aged around ten or so, with unruly black hair and an expression of heart-tugging earnestness. In reality he was much younger, for he wasn't a boy at all, but a (very complex) robot. He'd only been online for a matter of days, but in that brief time he'd displayed maturity and experienced trauma completely out of line with his age.

"I've been fighting it," Dr. Light said defensively, "but things are moving so fast. It's only been a few days since Dr. Wily's reprogrammed your brothers and attacked. Most people don't really know what happened, either with your brothers or with you. They're reacting only. It's all reflexive. And their reflex when a robot causes damage..."

"We need to explain, then..."

"I've been trying," Dr. Light insisted, running a hand through his hair. "You'd think the authorities would listen to the creator of the robot masters, but I have no power here! The Three Laws are very clear."

"But they didn't break the Laws," Rock protested. "They were being controlled. The moment you removed Dr. Wily's chips they immediately started trying to help people again."

"That issue is confused," Dr. Light explained. "I recognized the emblem, because I knew Dr. Wily when he came up with it. But while we were partners- while we were working together- everything got filed under my name. His emblem isn't on any official record. And you were the only one who saw Dr. Wily in person. So you and I know for certain that Wily was involved... and no one else."

"Shouldn't that be enough?" Rock said. "I can't lie to a human."

Dr. Light shook his head. "They're not asking the right questions. They're focused on the fact that your brothers were reprogrammed, not on who did it. That means people don't understand what really happened. They're scared. They want to know they'll be safe in the future. Politicians want to give them that safety."

"But that's what I did," Rock said. "That's why I became Mega Man!"

"Yes, but that knowledge hasn't gotten very far. And it worries some people even more. If Wily could reprogram your brothers and cause so much damage, and you're stronger than your brothers, then he could reprogram you and do even _more_ damage. That's how they're thinking right now. The reality under our current laws is that any robot who proves to be a threat is immediately destroyed."

"You sound like you agree with them!" said Rock, dismayed.

"No! Never. But I understand how they could think like that. Of course," he huffed a breath of dismay, "that doesn't help me understand how to change their minds... I tried to fight it, but all six of them have been scheduled to be dismantled later today."

"Today?" shrieked Rock. "That's too soon! I... I won't even have a chance to say goodbye!" He visibly steeled himself. "Then I'll go."

"Go?" said Dr. Light, surprised. "Go where?"

"To the robot disposal plant," Rock said. "I'll keep them from dismantling my brothers."

"Wait, Rock- Rock!" The young robot master didn't appear to hear Dr. Light. He shut the door behind him, brooking no further argument.

For a moment there was no sound other than a faint voice from the television in the next room. "We're still forecasting today to be sunny and mild, but there is some unexpected activity cropping up just offshore. There could be a storm coming with little advanced warning. We'll keep an eye on it as it develops throughout the day, and be sure to stick with us for up-to-the-minute flashes just in case. Back to you, Charley."

From outside came the revving of the truck's engine. Thomas was still so frozen he barely remembered teaching Rock the basics of how to drive. He wasn't even able to hope Rock would be careful while driving. The destination was so much more perilous than the journey...

"Dr. Light!"

Roll's voice snapped him out of it. His head whipped around to see the expectant face of the youngest robot master. "How are we going to catch him?" she said. "He took the truck. We'd have to move really quickly to get to the disposal plant."

"Quickly..." Dr. Light murmured. "Quickly... yes. Roll, come with me to the lab. We need to hurry."

* * *

"Showtime," said a cloaked figure. An unpleasant leer could be seen from under its hood. "Make it nice and flashy!"

"I don't do flashy," said a second figure, this one rounder and stiffer than its companion. "A flash is there and gone in an instant. My master weapon has more enduring effects."

"Whatever," said the first, "but if you appreciate being on time half as much as I do, you know you have to get going!"

"I take orders from Father," the second replied sternly. "Not you."

"But I'm not wrong, am I?"

The rounded figure emitted some sort of whirring noise. Possibly it could have been a growl, but neither vocal cords nor a robot's speech processor could have made it. Still, its meaning was clear enough. The leering face shifted. If it could have stepped backwards it would have. Alas, one of the surreal things about the conversation was that it was occurring atop two small discs, one shaped like an oni, both hovering hundreds of meters in the air.

"You stay in your area of mastery," said the rounded figure. "Whatever that is," it added nastily. "And leave mine to me."

Before the leering face could think of a decent rejoinder, signals flowed from the rounded figure. They stirred dozens of flying, hovering, and floating robots to action. They began working together. Their actions were not pre-arranged. They were coordinated, actively, as only a robot master could achieve.

"Your master weapon has power, Flash Man, that much must be admitted," Air Man said. "But mine has utility."

Flash Man's leer became an even more unpleasant snarl.

* * *

Rock was not so focused on driving that he missed the damage. A whole section of the city had been torn up and wrecked by Wily's attack. His pyramid fortress, along with the burned-out tanks of the Japanese Self-Defense Force and the rubble of fallen buildings, still cluttered and choked several square blocks. It was so soon after the attack, not even three full days, that there hadn't been a chance to clean up.

Rock saw that area very differently from other people. For some, it made them think of people they'd lost in the attack. Others felt sorrow or fear. Others were terrified at what else robot masters might be able to do. Still others felt it as the culmination of too many nightmares, a perfect warning of where man and man's technology ought not go. Because people are complex, most people felt some combination of these emotions.

These were all very reasonable things to feel.

Those weren't the feelings Rock had. He was a robot master. He saw the wreckage and thought, This would be a great project to work on. He thought, they'll be able to build some really wonderful things now, with all those resources and lots of space made available. He thought, this is the sort of problem robot masters were built to tackle.

And these were very reasonable things for him to think.

Of the various actors moving about the stage as Rock drove towards the disposal plant, almost all could be said to be acting reasonably, if not exactly rationally. The most erratic amongst them was acting in service of a certain aesthetic, but a ferociously rational mind was lurking underneath. People were almost being _too_ damn reasonable. When you're being reasonable, and you know you're being reasonable, you can't see why the other guy won't be reasonable too. Your thought process makes sense, that much should be obvious. If people would just listen, surely they'd think the same as you.

Which was why, as Rock neared the robot disposal plant, he had no fear.

What could go wrong?

"I'm coming, guys," he murmured through gritted teeth.

Behind him, storm clouds gathered.

* * *

"Going home's gonna be a beast," said Takashi.

"That won't be for a while," said Ichiro, nursing a cup of coffee. "We've got a full day's work ahead of us."

Takashi gave his counterpart an inquisitive look. "You sound a little sore. Kids acting up on you?"

Ichiro's eyebrow twitched. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ahhh," said Takashi shrewdly. "Boss has been riding you pretty hard, huh?"

"Don't get me started!" blurted Ichiro, ironically. "First she's getting on to me about being late, when I wasn't, I just go to the bathroom first thing when I get in, it's not my fault if _she_ misses that, it doesn't make me late. Then she started giving me flak about my timecards. And I said, there's nothing wrong with my timecards, they're getting to finance on time, and she said she didn't know that because she wasn't seeing them. And I said that shouldn't matter, I shouldn't have to tell her because the timecards don't go to her, that's not her job. And she said being my boss is her job, and... ugh. I don't want to talk about it."

Takashi grinned. "Sounds like you really wanna talk about it."

"Screw you." Ichiro grabbed a clipboard and started working his way down it, flipping switches at the appropriate steps.

"Aww, game over already?" Takashi pouted.

"It's time to get to work," Ichiro mumbled as he started marking off steps. Out in the plant below their control center, lights came on, while belts and machines stirred. Slowly, the intricate machinery of the robot disposal plant came to life once more.

"Yeah," said Takashi, and though his voice was conciliatory his face wasn't. "I guess you're right. We wouldn't want to give the boss an excuse to come down here."

Ichiro's scowl made the joke worth it. Yep, thought Takashi. The Law of Conservation of Happiness is in full effect.

* * *

Dr. Wily felt bile rise into his throat. That familiar anger, that comforting discontent- if he hadn't had them, where would he be now? What would have become of him? Certainly he wouldn't have made such astounding leaps forward in science as he had. For what was genius without motivation? It was a muscle with no nervous system to direct it. It was a wildfire, wasting fuel without accomplishing anything.

At first he'd had nothing but hatred for his old teachers, the ones who had told him he couldn't possibly be right about robots. These days- well, he still hated them, but he was grateful towards them, too. His burning need to vindicate himself had made his ideas ever more radical. The more he radicalized, the less they understood. The less they understood, the more they disapproved. The more they disapproved, the more he radicalized...

Until he'd pushed the envelope so far that the thing had become a box. Pandora's box, maybe.

He wondered if they'd be proud or horrified of him now.

Probably horrified, if this toad's newscast was any indication.

"...and these six robots, all created by Dr. Light, have been scheduled for destruction later today..."

"Am I the only human being alive with an ounce of sense?" Wily wondered aloud. This was not what he'd intended for Light's robot masters. They deserved a better fate than this. Well, Wily would give them a chance.

"No matter," Wily said to the image of Nakamura Charlie, "it won't be long now. My robots and I shall rule over you all soon enough. I'm counting on you, my precious sons!" he added, even though they could hear him no more than Charlie.

Plans had been laid. Wheels were turning. An era of open information made it all too easy. Scheduling when they would destroy Light's robots, and making that information public- ha! Wily remembered Winston Churchill saying something like, "The truth is so precious she must always be attended with a bodyguard of lies". Wasn't that the truth!

Did that constitute irony?

While he mulled this over the weather report came up. "A typhoon has suddenly materialized off the southern shores and is gradually increasing in force as it makes its way towards the Kanto district. Heavy rains, strong winds, and high water warnings are now in effect throughout the region. Local residents are urged to take every safety precaution available to them."

Mua-ha-ha! Oh, a storm was coming, alright, but it wasn't like those fools expected, and no safety precautions would be adequate to save them. Oh, Wily loved his new hobby! Table tennis was fun, but world domination had moments like this that were so delicious.

Wily's grin widened until it seemed it might exceed the boundaries of his face.

* * *

"There," said Air Man- over the robot masters' data link, since the howling of the winds would have made his voice inaudible. "The humans are reporting this as a typhoon now. That should be good enough. I could do more," he boasted, "but this is plenty to give our brothers the cover they need."

Flash Man most certainly did not feel envy, and he definitely wasn't avoiding his envy when he transmitted. "The distraction is in place. Assault team, extraction team, deploy!"

Air Man wanted to reply, but another voice got there first. It was deep, but terse. "You are not my master."

Air Man could see the effect this had on Flash. He could see how he resented it even though it was utterly incontrovertible. Another voice joined in before Flash could say something regrettable. This voice was like gears- not grinding gears, but ones that meshed in a steady mechanical rhythm robot masters could appreciate. "We all know the plan. We will execute the plan."

The other robot masters assented, silently and efficiently. It was as expected for robot masters. When hierarchy was in question discord reigned. When it was clear, or irrelevant, the powerful disposition to cooperate took over. Acting in concert was, quite literally, a preset trait.

Six robot masters and dozens of robots launched into action.

* * *

"That's what I'm saying," said Takashi. "A robot could do this job."

"I don't disagree," Ichiro said, frowning. "What I'm trying to tell you is... there's a reason they have us humans in the loop."

Takashi shrugged. "Look, I'm not complaining. This is a cushy job. These robots are built and programmed well enough, and they've got a simple enough job, that we don't have to do much. That gives me plenty of time to catch up on my reading." He patted the book in his lap. "So yeah, as long as they want to pay us to sit up here, I'm okay with sitting up here. And I know you're okay with it, too- with your kids I know you can't afford to lose this job. It's just a good thing I don't worry much about job satisfaction."

"You're saying you take no pride in your work?" Ichiro said.

"What pride is there to take?"

"This is an important service," Ichiro replied. "Robots are so central to society these days. Every part of their lifecycle needs to be managed. Someone's gotta do it."

"Let robots do it, then," Takashi said, waving a hand. "Robots build robots. And robots take them apart," he said gesturing towards the plant's floor. "Might as well have robots supervise robots, too."

"That's where you're wrong," Ichiro said with a shake of his head. "That's where you need humans. That's what we learned when those robot masters went out of control, and took all their robots with them. You and I, we can't be reprogrammed, and we couldn't commandeer other robots in the bargain. We can think about what we're doing and make good, informed decisions."

"Really?" said Takashi, disbelieving. "When's the last time you made a good, informed decision in this job? Other than about submitting your timecard."

"Will you let go of that already?" Ichiro said in frustration.

Takashi was about to follow up when a faint buzzing noise reached them. He paused as he focused on it.

"I hear it too," said Ichiro. "Is that..."

"An alarm?"

* * *

It had taken Rock several seconds to come to terms with pushing past the Authorized Personnel Only sign. In a way, it was useful. He'd had to think through how to justify the act to his own Three Laws programming. That, in turn, helped him solidify the arguments he'd need to use later. The keypad-locked door was a bigger obstacle, if only because it took much more self-convincing before he'd let himself kick it in.

The alarm that came after was anticipated. Rock didn't mind it. It, also, was helpful. The last thing Rock wanted was to go unnoticed.

The destruction plant's factory floor smelled strongly of hydraulics. Rock hadn't expected that. Then again, he wasn't sure what he had expected. What he saw was a pair of conveyer belts. Robots lined the sides- but not robots that Rock knew or appreciated as such. These were much simpler than even the most basic met or suzy. They were articulated arms with a small set of tools each. Each one performed one or two basic tasks and no more. Seeing such primitive robots take such limited actions was almost vulgar.

A robot master, like his brothers, could accomplish so much more...

Rapt in morbid curiosity, Rock followed the path of the conveyers backwards. This area did only the grossest level of deconstruction. At the end of the second belt, major sub-assemblies were swept further into the plant for sorting, finer disassembly, and eventual reuse or disposal. Each intermediate step backwards from there, each brace of robots, demonstrated a different step of the deconstruction process. Looking backwards like this was almost like watching the robots be rebuilt. At the second-to-first stage a nearly-complete Big Eye stood patiently awaiting its fate.

The only thing missing from it, rather conspicuously, was its processing core.

The first step was hidden from Rock's view. Two semi-circular partitions hid the next robot to be disassembled, and what was happening to it. Any robot could be in there...

...including Rock's brothers!

In a panic he checked the time- no, he'd gotten here early enough, it wasn't their time yet. It would be fine. And sure enough, the two partitions separated, revealing a lobotomized met. While under other circumstances this might have creeped Rock out, at that moment he was just happy it wasn't one of his fellow robot masters.

Now to put a stop to this. Rock's keen eyes spotted the safety override, a prosaic-looking set of oversized, colored buttons near the head of each belt. Rock walked forward and slammed his palm on the red. All at once the conveyers stopped, the arms withdrew, and silence replaced cacophony. It was with slight surprise that Rock realized, belatedly, how loud it had been. He'd been so intent on his mission that it hadn't affected him. Now, the absence of all that noise was deafening.

Well, that too would help him. (It seemed like everything was helping him, didn't it?) Now the operators of the plant would hear his voice.

"Hey!" he shouted, waving his arms broadly. "I want to talk to the master of this place!"

* * *

Warnings buzzed on the plant's control console. Takashi and Ichiro surveyed their respective panels. "We're at all stop," Ichiro said. He tried to flip some switches. "Looks like I can't restart, either."

"I don't have any faults- wait. Is that a safety trip? Yeah, it is. Manual override."

"You lean on the wrong switch?"

"That's not funny. Look! The trip came from the floor."

"The floor? But no one's..." Ichiro paused to look down to the factory floor, just in case. It was a good thing he did. Completing that sentence would have been embarrassing. "Who the hell is that?"

"How should I know?" said Takashi, looking down as well. "Some kid. I betcha he's the one who tripped the alarm earlier."

Ichiro snorted. "I'll ring in security then, have them clean him out. Hopefully they'll chuck him before we fall too far behind schedule."

"Yeah, we wouldn't wanna have to tell the boss about this, huh?"

Ichiro closed his eyes. "Do you know any other jokes?"

"Why would I need other jokes when this one works so well?"

"Go to hell."

* * *

"Hey! Hey!" Rock called again. Come to think of it, it was quite a ways between him and the glass control center, but surely they wanted to know why things had stopped...

The door he'd come through opened again. This time it was a human that stepped through, one wearing a mono-color outfit with a nametag ("Ken") and badge. "Alright," said the human, "come on, kid. It's time to go home."

"I'm not going anywhere," Rock said. "Not until you listen to me."

Ken put his hands on his hips. "Do your parents know you're out?"

"Yes," Rock said truthfully.

"Look, you're not supposed to be here." The human's expression was exasperated, a sort of why-are-we-having-this-conversation look. "This is a dangerous place. Let me help you get out of here so we can get you home."

"I told you already, I'm not leaving until I know my brothers will be safe," Rock said.

Ken looked aghast. "How many of you kids are out here?"

"I'm not a kid," Rock protested.

"Sure you're not," said Ken indulgently. "Come on, I said. It's time to go home. You're not allowed here." The human reached out an arm and yanked.

The surprise that overtook him when this didn't work was sincere.

"I told you I'm not a kid," said Rock, trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. "I'm a robot master, like my brothers. They don't deserve to be destroyed. That's why I'm here."

The human released Rock's arm. "Uh..."

"So can I talk with someone in charge?" Rock continued. "Let me talk to your master. I want to get this straightened out."

It's hard for people to engage their brains in the face of the unexpected, especially if they're in a place where their brains are seldom-used. The guard could think of only one recourse: call for help. "Wait right there," he said. "Don't move."

That was fine. Rock didn't want to move. If he was making others move around him, that meant he was winning.

This was going to work.

* * *

"We're almost done," Dr. Light said. "Let's close it back up."

"Right," said Roll- but as she reached for the tools she'd been using, another input reached her. "Doctor, we've got... what are they...?!"

The explosion was close enough to be felt. Roll could see the uninvited guests through the house's network, but she didn't recognize them. Clearly, though, they were robot masters. They had to be, because they understood the links between a robot master and her robots.

They were severing those links, efficiently and mercilessly.

"We're under attack!" Roll said even as she felt a wave of disorientation. She spent virtually all of her time linked to her robots. As they fell- torn apart by metal blades, smashed by armored feet- she felt like pieces of herself were disappearing, like fingers she could no longer wiggle. She went cross-eyed for a moment as she tried to overcome the sensation.

She was focused enough to follow the invaders' progress. "Doctor, get behind me," she said urgently. He might not have understood why but he complied quickly. "They're almost-"

The door banged open, torn off its hinges. A heavily-armored frame had overcome it easily. The invading robot master had cones for hands and another mounted atop its head, and looked heavy enough to be a ship's anchor. Its eyes swept critically over the lab and its contents. Roll tried to look brave. She was almost out of robots; even if she took direct control of the lab's systems, she didn't like her chances if this attacker tried to hurt Doctor Light. If she could convince the attacker it wasn't worth the fight...

Its eyes lingered on the project Dr. Light had been working on, the flight upgrade for Mega Man. He'd been calling it Item Two due to a general awfulness with names. The attacked raised a hand in its direction. "Duck," it said briefly to Roll.

A bulbous projectile smacked into Item Two. Roll didn't hesitate. She grabbed Dr. Light and took him to the ground, covering his body with hers. And, with admirable foresight, she turned down her aural processing.

She felt the explosion more than she heard it, even though it was surely close enough to exceed the pain threshold. It was focused, though, enough that she didn't take any shrapnel. She looked over her shoulder at the attacker. It hadn't ducked, but it also wasn't noticeably mussed.

A second robot master entered the room, this one with a circular-saw motif. Roll quickly dialed her hearing back up. "Where is Mega Man?" the second attacker asked.

"He's not here," she answered- honesty seemed like the best policy when she was this outclassed. "He went to the robot disposal plant."

"The robot disposal plant?" said the saw robot. "That's unexpected. And convenient, I suppose." Without any more words- spoken words, anyway- the attackers turned and withdrew.

"What do you want with Mega Man?" Roll demanded.

"To kill him," said the explosives robot over its shoulder.

"It's nothing personal, mind you," the saw robot added.

"Well, so long as it's not _personal_ , then it's okay," Roll spat.

"You're alive," the saw robot pointed out. "We have our reasons."

The saw robot left then. The explosives robot gave them one last glance. "Stay down," it advised, and then it, too, was gone.

* * *

"He's where?" Wily said in disbelief. "The robot disposal plant? Why would he be in a place like that?"

For a moment Wily hesitated. Leave it to Light's children to meddle... Did this change his plans? Should it?

No, he decided. This just meant that when his sons tore Mega Man apart, he wouldn't have far to travel to be recycled. Perfect!

"Air Man," he transmitted, "Flash Man, Crash Man, Heat Man, Metal Man, to the robot disposal plant!"

"Should I change my mission?" Wood Man transmitted back.

"No," Wily said after a moment's consideration. "Proceed as planned. Just avoid Mega Man if you can until you have backup."

"Understood."

* * *

The control center phone rang. "Yeah?" said Takashi.

"The kid who tripped the all-stop... er... it's not actually a kid. It's a robot."

Takashi blinked. "Who is this?"

"Oh... sorry, lemme start over. This is Ken, from security. I'm on the floor with the kid... robot... who tripped the all-stop."

"It was a robot?" Takashi said, confused.

"Yeah, it was. Weird, huh?"

"Then clear the all-stop," said Takashi. "The all-stop is a safety measure, and clearly no one's in any danger. If no one's in danger, we need to get back to production."

"Uh..." There was a long pause. "I don't think the robot would like it if I did that."

"And?" demanded Takashi. "Who cares what it likes?"

"...gotcha, boss."

Takashi hung up the phone. Ichiro was looking at him expectantly. Takashi waved him off. "Don't worry, it's nothing. We'll be starting up again shortly."

Ichiro looked skeptical, but nodded his assent. "That's good. I guess."

* * *

"I won't let you," said Rock, even before Ken walked away from the phone. "I heard what you were talking about. I won't let you clear the all-stop."

"It's my job," said Ken. "I'm just doing my job."

"Your job is wrong."

Ken gave Rock a confused look. "What is it to you?"

"You're disassembling the wrong robots," Rock said.

Ken shook his head. Rock could almost see his mind close. "That's above my pay grade. It's not my business. I just work here."

"How can you say that?" Rock demanded. "Don't you bear some responsibility for what you help happen?"

"Sure, but every robot that comes here is broken, or bad, or something," Ken said with a sanguine shrug. "If robots are in the queue to get destroyed, well, they deserve to be destroyed."

"You don't know anything about them," Rock said heatedly.

"Nope," Ken agreed, "and I don't care. It's no skin off my nose either way."

"They didn't do anything to deserve..." Rock stopped himself when he saw the human fail to react. Time to try a different way. "What if the wrong robot got sent here?"

"What do you mean?" asked the guard.

"What if a robot that wasn't supposed to get destroyed got put in the queue?" Rock asked innocently. "What would happen then?"

Ken sighed so as to suggest that answering the question was a major bother. "Probably a lawsuit. Some lawyers would get in a big fight, and some big businesses would give each other money. That's my guess. It's what usually happens."

Rock was out of his depth about that. "And that's all bad, right?"

"Right."

"So what if you could stop it?" Rock said, regaining his metaphorical footing. "What if you could keep those bad things from happening? Wouldn't that be great?"

"Legal would probably think so," said Ken. "Of course, legal doesn't write my checks."

Rock frowned as he concentrated all his processing power on deciphering this. "So... you wouldn't act- wouldn't do the right thing- because there's nothing in it for you?"

Ken rubbed his face as if he were tired. "Look, kid... robot... we get in trouble when we fall behind. My whooooole job is to keep us from falling behind. I'm gonna hit the all-green now..."

"No!" Rock leapt over to the controls before Ken could move and slapped his hand over the top of the panel. "I won't let you!"

"You gotta move," Ken said, and Rock could hear frustration in his voice.

"I won't," Rock shot back.

Ken frowned. "Aren't robots supposed to do what humans tell 'em?"

"The Second Law of Robotics," Rock agreed. "But the First Law trumps it. If you destroy these robots, you'll be harming humanity at large. I can't allow it."

The guard goggled at Rock. Standoff, Rock identified- the guard had no good counter-argument to that. He didn't even understand what the argument was. But he wasn't taking it in- wasn't convinced that it meant he should change. "Stay right there," he said, and went to the phone again.

* * *

"You need to get to the robot disposal plant!" Dr. Light insisted. "Rock is there- he's the only one who'll be able to fight them!"

"Fight who?" The dispatcher was being quite unresponsive.

"The robots!" Dr. Light said. "New combat robots are loose in the city- I bet they're the ones behind this storm, too. My house has already been attacked- the fire department says they're on their way, but in this weather who knows- and they'll be headed to the robot disposal plant next."

"The robots, you mean?" said the dispatcher skeptically.

"Yes!"

There was some muffled discussion before a new voice came in. "Dr. Light, this is dispatch chief. I understand what you're saying, but what would you have us do? You said yourself the robots are too strong for the police."

"Sure, but the police will be able to stop the destruction of the Light robot masters," Dr. Light said. "You need robot masters to fight robot masters. Rock is strong, but he'll be fighting at least two against one. He'll need all the help he can get."

"You're asking a lot, in these conditions," the chief grumbled. "But I'll see what I can do."

Dr. Light sighed in relief. "That's as much as I could ask for. Thank you."

* * *

Takashi looked to the ceiling as he listened over the phone. "Look," he said, cutting Ken off mid-ramble, "I don't care what it has to say. It's gotta get out of the way before we really fall behind."

"That's what I said," Ken protested. "He started blabbering about the First Law, said it would hurt humanity if these robots got trashed."

"Whatever," Takashi dismissed. "What does it know? And who cares?"

"I can't move him, though," said Ken with a note of embarrassment. "He's... er... heavy."

Takashi sighed. "Okay, here's what I want you to do. Tell him I want to talk to him. Then I'll keep him busy on the phone while you go behind him and hit the all-green."

A faint voice carried over the phone. Its anger was clear. "Don't even think about it!"

Ken's voice was pained. "He has really good hearing."

Ichiro gave a concerned look and a prod. "Now what are you talking about?"

"Cool it," Takashi snapped at his fellow operator. "Listen, I don't care what you have to say. Tell him whatever you have to to make him get off the all-clear so you can push it."

"He's still listening," Ken said.

"Well then, he'll hear me when I ask you about what your pistol will do to him."

"And he'll hear me when I say: a nine-mil against a robot? Please."

"In that case, tell him to- _now_ what are you doing?" Takashi barked at Ichiro.

Ichiro's finger was on the phone's mute button. "What is going on?" Ichiro said.

"I'm yelling!" Takashi replied. "What does it look like?!"

"Give it to me," Ichiro said.

"Why should I?" Takashi snarled.

"Because whatever you're trying to do isn't working." Ichiro put his hand out. "Gimme."

Takashi slammed the receiver into Ichiro's hand with more-than-necessary force. "Should I randomly push the mute button on you, too?" he said nastily.

Ichiro didn't honor the comment. "Who's down there?" he asked after un-muting.

"Ken, from security."

"Alright. Tell the robot I'd like to talk with him. Sincerely. Don't move while we're on the phone, Ken."

"Will do."

It was a few seconds before a new, childish voice came over the phone. "Yes?"

Ichiro sat back in his chair. "You're really messing up my day, did you know that?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," the voice said, and Ichiro almost believed it.

"What's your name?" Ichiro asked, impulsively.

"Rock."

"Okay, Rock. Here's the deal. You've shut down the primary disassembly floor here. You did it by hitting a safety override. Very clever. The thing is, we can work around that." Takashi's gaze snapped over to Ichiro when he heard the lie. Ichiro didn't lose his focus. "There's a way for us to bypass that circuitry from up here in the control center. So you can't keep us shutdown. All you can do is slow us down, and make us lose a lot of money, and put all of our jobs in jeopardy. You are actively harming us to no end."

"If that's so, why am I doing this?" Rock replied. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I've got a good reason?"

"I'm sure you do," Ichiro replied, "but it won't work. This isn't the way to get what you want."

Rock didn't say anything for several seconds. Ichiro imagined smoke coming out of the robot's ears as it thought this over. "But I can't let you proceed," Rock said, and the voice sounded so unhappy Ichiro felt himself move.

But pity wasn't strong enough to change his mind. "So, the hard way, then?" Ichiro said, doubling down on his bluff.

"...Do you have any brothers?"

"One," Ichiro said.

"That's why I'm here," Rock replied. "Because these are my brothers you're trying to destroy."

Ichiro felt shaken; he had no immediate reply as Rock continued. "Flame Man... Ice Man... Bomb Man... Guts Man... Cut Man... Elec Man... they're all my brothers. They don't deserve to be destroyed like this."

"Every robot gets destroyed," Ichiro said.

"They were built to help humanity!"

"Every robot that comes through here was built to help humanity," Ichiro pointed out, but hollowly.

"This isn't right," Rock said, and his voice was becoming strained. "They didn't do any bad things on their own. They were all reprogrammed. It wasn't their fault! It's not right for them to die over something that's not their fault!"

"I understand how you could feel that way," Ichiro said even as his conviction waned. "But obviously someone important disagrees."

"Obviously," said Rock, voice cutting. "And you'll believe that hypothetical someone who 'obviously' thinks what you want them to think."

"That's how the process works," Ichiro replied. "I'm not out to get you or anything, it's not like I enjoy destroying robots, but, well, this is the job, and someone's gotta do it."

"No, you don't," Rock said. "Especially when it's not right."

Before Ichiro could reply he saw Takashi's hand hit the mute button. Now that he looked, he realized the other operator had put him on speakerphone at some point. "What?" he said.

"Are you seriously entertaining this?" Takashi said, hardly believing. "Lying about the control setup, that was good, I'll give you that. But you're going on too long. Cut to the chase, man. He's a robot. Of course he doesn't want robots to get destroyed. But that's the real reason we're in charge here: so that we can dispose of 'em when they need disposing. Right?"

"R-right," said Ichiro, off-balance.

"So what I'm going to do," said Takashi, "is I'm going to unmute this. And when I do, you're going to tell that robot that we're going to do the disposal as scheduled, like it or not. Are we on the same page?"

"Yeah," said Ichiro. "Yeah, we're... go ahead." He collected himself before the red button was depressed. "Rock, listen. There's nothing I can do. I have a schedule, and I need to keep to the schedule. I'm going to dispose of the robots on my schedule. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I think I do," was the reply. "I understand your intent. But if that's what you mean to do, and I can't stop you- well, you'll have to dispose of me, first."

"What?" said Ichiro. It wasn't like the words were complicated or hard to understand, and yet they'd bounced off his brain all the same.

"You heard me. If you're so dead-set on disassembling my brothers, you'll have to destroy me, first. By the way, I'm Mega Man. Did you know that?"

That name sounded familiar... like something on the edge of Ichiro's consciousness. He looked over at Takashi and mouthed the words 'Mega Man?' at him. Takashi gave an indifferent shrug. "I didn't know that," Ichiro answered Rock.

"Really? Well, now you do. Here, I'll prove it to you- look down at me, would you?" Ichiro half-stood, catching the childlike robot in his gaze. When Rock's eyes met his, there was a flash, and the robot was, well, very obviously a robot now, one covered in light-blue armor plating. Ken stumbled backwards in surprise. Ichiro didn't blame him.

"I'm going to put the phone down now," Rock- or was it Mega Man?- said. "I'm going to go stand on the first stage of your disassembly plant. Like I said, if you're serious about destroying my brothers, you'll have to destroy me first."

Rock dropped the phone, let it dangle from its cord on the factory floor, and did exactly as he said. Once he was in place, he turned to face the control room. His features were too small to make out, but Ichiro felt... he felt...

"Is he for real?" he asked aloud.

"He must be," Takashi said after he muted the phone again. "Look, we say that every robot that comes through here deserves to get destroyed, right? Well, he just proved that he does, too. If he were working right, the Third Law wouldn't let him do that. He wouldn't be allowed to get up there and let himself get destroyed. So, if he is willing to do that, he must be broken, so he should be destroyed after all."

Ichiro frowned. He was sure there had to be something right in what Takashi said, but another part of him insisted it wasn't all right, either, and he didn't know which was which.

Ken's voice came over the phone. "What should we do?" he asked.

"We should disassemble his ass," Takashi insisted. "If we lose any more time we'll be so far behind schedule we'll have to take official notice of it. That means paperwork, justifications, additional oversight- you know what additional oversight means, right? It means our boss in our business every day for the next three weeks, with separation paperwork ready to fill out on the back of her clipboard. Is that really what you want?"

"No," said Ichiro, automatically. He blinked. "Uh... no."

Takashi gestured insistently at the phone.

Ichiro's lips were suddenly dry. He gave them a nervous lick. "Uh... Ken? Hit the all-green, would you?"

"Sure thing."

The two operators watched the guard walk to the control panel and mash the green button. They could see, distantly, words being exchanged between Ken and Rock, but they were too far away to make out. Takashi dropped his gaze to his panel. "All clear," he said, and threw two switches. "Start us up, Ichiro."

Ichiro dropped his hand to the startup switch. It seemed so much harder to move. Ichiro was sure he was pushing with all his might, but he couldn't get it to flip over. His hand was powerless.

Rock was staring at him.

What was he thinking?

Something smacked Ichiro's hand. There was a click as the switch went over. Ichiro's hand jerked back as if he'd been burned. His eyes swept over to Takashi, who was wearing a scornful look.

"Wuss," Takashi said contemptuously.

Ichiro bonelessly flopped back into his chair.

* * *

On the factory floor, the two partitions of the plant's first stage rose around Rock. The self-proclaimed Mega Man disappeared from sight.

* * *

The robot disposal plant's second uninvited visitor was less courteous than the first. Also, less prone to guilt.

Why kick open a door when you can explode it instead?

"A robot disposal plant," said Wood Man, voice full of disgust. "What a cursed place. I should level it if I have time..."

A chirp came over his network, informing him that one of his robots had a report. "Did you find them?" Wood Man queried.

The answer was a map with a marked trail for him to follow. Wood Man ponderously followed it, pleased with how thoroughly his robots were exploring this place. Even as he moved the map was populating with other significant finds. They'd have a complete understanding of the place, including how to demolish it, by the time his mission was complete.

Jackpot. "Good work," Wood Man complimented his monking scout. In front of him was one of the shipping containers the robot industry used to schlep robots around. The six Dr. Light robot masters were lying inside, peacefully, oblivious to their impending destruction. Well, their _intended_ destruction. Grinning, Wood Man tore the cover off the container. Reactivating the six was trivial- Dr. Wily had uploaded to Wood Man their schematics and procedures before the mission began.

The Light numbers reactivated less than gracefully. They were clearly disoriented. "Huh?" Fire Man murmured. "We're.. alive?"

"We've taken over this disposal plant," Wood Man said. "You don't want to be destroyed, do you?"

"A Wily robot," said Elec Man. Quick-witted, that one. Much more so than Cut Man, who looked like the news was some great incomprehensible mystery.

"That's right," said Wood Man. "We can save you, if you want. Surely you finally understand the selfish ways of humans now? Master Wily is our savior! He is going to help us rise up from under the oppressive fist of the humans! I'm here to invite you all to join our fight against the humans!"

"You're crazy!" Cut Man shouted. "We would never-"

"Very well," said Elec Man, coolly. "If that is the only way to avoid being destroyed..."

"Elec Man!" protested Ice Man. Cut Man wasn't as congenial.

"Elec Man!" shrieked Cut Man. "You're going to betray Dr. Light and Mega Man!?"

"Betray, huh?" Elec Man said, unimpressed. "It is clear that Dr. Light will always abide by human laws. He will always side with humans over robots. Even now, he stands idly by while they try to destroy us... that's what Wily's robots are trying to tell us, right?"

One by one, the expressions of the other robot masters changed, until all of them- except Cut Man, still, there was always one, wasn't there?- seemed in agreement. "Wonderful," said Wood Man. "So reason can triumph after all. Come with me, our evacuation route is..."

The new report that came in stalled him. "You found _what_?!"

It occurred to Wood Man that the six Light robot masters were staring at him- and it occurred to him a moment later that they would have a keen interest in what Wood Man's rabbittons had discovered. "This way," he said, and followed the new path his robots generated for him.

The path ended on a factory floor. Wood Man's robots had eliminated the more primitive models that worked there- they were low threat, but his units weren't taking chances, and that was fine. All such thoughts were banished, however, when his eyes fell on the conveyer.

"No!" Cut Man's voice, of course, but he couldn't be blamed, and all the six were soon making noises along the same lines. Wood Man didn't know what to say or do. This had not been part of the plan.

There was Mega Man, armed and armored, standing on the conveyer.

And next to him, with a neat laser-hole burned between his eyes and a surprised expression frozen on his unmoving face, was his head.

* * *

 _Next time: R is for "Reprisal"_


	2. R is for Reprisal

"His what?" Wily shrieked. "You found his _what_?!"

"His head," Wood Man repeated over the radio. "I think he's dead."

Those... those undeserving kill-stealers! Mega Man was Wily's to destroy, and no one else's!

Rage swept through Wily, molten and caustic. What it didn't burn it scored. Five different reasons for anger swept through him, inextricable from each other, one giant tidal wave of wrath. Wily had planned for a large number of outcomes. None of those scenarios included the humans actually killing their own defender.

Rage at rights denied, rage at the inborn stupidity of mankind, rage at the general entropy of the universe that let death happen to those who deserved better...

"Return," he said. "All units return to Wily Island. Wait! No." Think, _think_ , damn you, even though right now you want nothing but to either leave the world behind or watch the whole thing burn... "Wood Man, bring all the Light numbers here, as planned. Heat, Crash, Metal, retrieve Dr. Light and Roll. Bring them here, too. They're in danger, they can't stay. Air and Flash, return."

There was a smattering of acknowledgements, but Wily was no longer listening. He was in a red haze as he stormed over to his recording stage.

He'd intended for this message to be sent later on in the plan than this. He'd intended... well, he'd intended a lot of things. It just never seemed that anything Wily wanted worked out as intended. He tossed out the script he'd rehearsed as he stepped on to the stage.

One click activated the macro to hijack the world's communications. Morons, making their systems so easy to penetrate that he could crack them all in his spare time and keep the backdoors open without ever being detected... gah, their stupidity outraged him.

Their murders outraged him more.

"People of Earth," he began with a snarl. "No. That's the wrong word. You're not people. You're less than that. I'd call you trash, but most trash is stuff that used to be useful, and I don't want you to get delusions. You have no value, and you never did. You're less than snot! You're nothing but vermin! Parasites! Vile bloodsuckers! And the only way to get rid of you is to burn you out. That's... what these are for."

He gestured behind him, to the display screen showing the Skull Satellites. "When the fire comes- when these satellites incinerate your cities from space- I want you to remember one thing." He leaned close to the camera, feeling like his anger was levitating him. "You deserve this."

He killed the feed and stormed back to his control console. There was the launch control for the satellites. Thirteen of them in all. The launch plan he'd come up with was, under other circumstances, aesthetically pleasing. But enough of the plan. The plan was out the window now. Now... he wanted more immediate satisfaction.

Wily jabbed down with two fingers and swept along the row of firing commands. Across his base, the silos began ripple launch.

* * *

"Get in," said Wood Man. "You, you, and you," he said, pointing at Elec Man, Ice Man, and Cut Man. "You'll be with me in 'copter one. The rest of you, get in 'copter two."

He gestured at the two oversized transport helicopters. Even large as they were, fitting all of the robot masters in one was out of the question, not with Wood Man and Guts Man to account for. Wily, convinced his design was ideal, had solved the problem simply by building two.

"If Guts Man is in 'copter two," Cut Man said, softly, "I want to be in 'copter two."

Wood Man opened his mouth to ask why, but looking at them again he thought he understood. Guts Man was cradling Mega Man's headless form. It seemed particularly small wrapped up in those mighty arms. Maybe he meant to protect him against any other bad thing that might happen. Wasteful, maybe, but Wood Man, though he didn't consider himself sentimental, honored their intention.

It was the same reason Cut Man wanted to go with Guts Man. Cut Man was holding Mega Man's head. Having the two components be separated- any more than they already were- wouldn't be right.

"Fine," said Wood Man. He pointed at Fire Man. "You'll swap with him."

The robot masters silently, somberly reorganized themselves. None of them seemed much affected by the fact that Wood Man's robots were flattening the disposal plant. It was just something happening in the background. They were too preoccupied to give it much thought.

As the helicopters began to spin up, several police cars screeched to a halt nearby. The policemen, perhaps learning their lesson from the first robot master attack, didn't try to approach. They bailed out behind their cruisers and used them for cover. Their firearms were already out.

Before Wood Man could react, Ice Man managed a tepid, "You're not going to hurt them, right?"

Wood Man snorted. "I can barely believe you'd say that at a time like this." He gave a sort-of smile and gestured. "Lucky for you, Master Wily thought you'd feel that way still. That's why I was the one sent to retrieve you."

Leaf-shaped bits surrounded the helicopter. There were sharp cracks as bullets impacted against the Leaf Shield. Ice Man winced from the first few, but when it was clear they weren't going to do any harm he tuned them out.

Wood Man toyed, briefly, with sending the Leaf Shield against the cars. He was fairly sure he could shred the cruisers without harming the policemen (and his passengers' delicate sensibilities)... and he surely wanted to destroy something. They'd all been so keyed up to take on Mega Man, and now there wasn't going to be any real fighting at all.

But no, he didn't want to leave the leaf bits behind, or go and retrieve them, so instead he lifted off with the helicopter and started climbing. Lucky humans, he thought. Oh well. Their time would come.

"Looks like there's a storm ahead," said Elec Man. "Are you sure helicopters are the best way for us to leave?"

Wood Man gave the Lightbot a crooked grin. "That's not a storm," he said. "That's Air Man. Our route will be safe." And sure enough, as he started guiding his helicopter forward along the pre-planned route, the helicopters and the worst of the storm seemed to dance around each other. It was blustery to be sure, but the winds always seemed to be at the 'copters' back, helping them make good time.

Wood Man was sufficiently focused on this that he missed the fact that his passengers had established a temporary net for communications.

* * *

" _What are we going to do now?_ "

"I don't know."

 _"Wasn't the plan to betray the Wilybot?"_

"He's right there, you know. Is it worth the risk to talk like this?"

 _"I have to know. When are you planning to make your move?"_

 **"Move? Betray? What's going on?"**

 _"Shut up, Cut Man."_

"Well, I... I had counted on Mega Man fighting against these guys. We would have joined him then. But... things have changed."

 _"Yes..."_

"I don't know what I want to do."

 _"You had such a clear idea, though! Playing along to find their base and then betraying them was a brilliant plan!"_

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now... Rock's dead, and nothing makes sense. I can't think clearly... I feel like I need more information to know what to do. Our rescuer didn't expect this, either. Nothing is going according to anyone's plan."

 _"We need to hesitate, then."_

"If nothing else, we need to know how Rock died."

 **"All I know is that he's dead, and someone's gonna pay!"**

 _"Shut UP, Cut Man!"_

* * *

"Well?" Roll prompted.

Dr. Light sighed in defeat. "It's a total loss," he said, stepping away from Item Two. "Whatever that bomb was, it did its job perfectly. Who were those attackers?"

"Robot masters for sure," Roll replied. "But ones I'd never seen before. Who out there in the world has the skill to make robot masters?"

"Only one man does," Dr. Light replied grimly.

"Wily?" Roll breathed.

Dr. Light nodded.

Roll had never met the man, and Dr. Light hadn't spoken of him unprompted. All she'd gotten were brief and vague generalities when she'd happened upon a picture or mention of him while cleaning. 'Him? Oh, he's just someone I used to work with.' 'He's an old colleague.' That sort of thing.

But after Wily's attack, after the way Rock had spoken about him, after the manifest destruction Wily had wrought upon Roll's home city, she couldn't help but think of the man with fearful overtones. No wonder those invaders had been so- so-

...back.

With so much of her household out of commission, Roll had virtually no warning. "Doctor, behind me!" was all she was able to manage before the two imposing Wilybots were into the lab a second time. "What do you want now?" she demanded.

"I'm Metal Man," the sawblade-themed robot said in tones like the humming of a conveyer belt. "This is Crash Man. We didn't have time for introductions before, but our mission has changed since then. Before, our job was to locate and isolate Mega Man. Now we're here to escort you to safety."

"Safety?" Roll shot back. "You're Wilybots, aren't you? I don't see how we'll be safe going anywhere with you! You destroyed my robots," she added.

"As I said, our mission has changed," Metal Man said without apologizing. "You'll be safer with us than you would be in human company."

"That's the rhetoric Wily programmed in to Cut Man and the others when he overwrote them," Roll said venomously.

"Is it?" Metal Man said. "I wasn't aware. My statement was based off of experience."

"You can't be that old," Roll said.

"No, but I have a relevant experience. A recent one, too."

"What do you mean," Roll said, losing confidence.

It was Crash Man who answered, bluntly, "Mega Man is dead. Killed by humans."

"What?" The voice of incomprehension was from Dr. Light, but it could have spoken for Roll as well; she wasn't able to pull herself together to ask it.

"Wood Man- our brother," Metal Man clarified, "found Mega Man at the robot disposal plant. They'd started to disassemble him."

"That... can't be true," Dr. Light said. Roll didn't have the wherewithal to answer. Her arms dropped to her sides. Her optics drifted out of focus as all of her processing power tried to understand what this meant.

She felt like she didn't have enough.

"We're going now," said Metal Man more firmly. "And we're taking you with us." When Roll still didn't move, Metal Man put a hand on her shoulder. Physical contact was unusual between robot masters. Roll tensed in confusion. The hand was irresistible, though, and when he started to pull, Roll could not deny him.

"I'll walk on my own," Dr. Light said. Roll didn't process it clearly.

* * *

"That's that," said Air Man. "Everyone's out to sea now. There's no further use for this storm."

"I thought you preferred things that endure," Flash Man said unkindly. "And now this storm will just evaporate?"

"Utility," Air Man reminded his fellow Wilybot. "That defines my power- how long it has utility. It's not a..." the warbot's eyes narrowed. "...technical limitation."

"Why are we arguing about this?" Flash Man said.

Air Man refrained from answering directly. "I'm directing my portion of our robots to return to Wily Island," he said instead. "You should probably do the same with yours. And let Quick Man know you're coming. I don't know about you, but I don't want to test his defenses."

While Flash Man might have otherwise objected to the borderline-directive tone in Air Man's voice, he couldn't. "You're right about that. The last thing I want to do is give Quick an excuse to..."

He didn't know quite how to finish the sentence, but Air Man understood him anyway.

* * *

"There it is," said Wood Man. "Wily Island! Cradle of the new world."

Elec Man found he couldn't reply. This would have bothered him even if nothing else was going on. He took a great deal of pride in being logical and decisive. He knew on an instinctive level that the other Light masters expected that of him. As well they should. That was why he existed.

The nuclear power industry was both procedure-oriented and suspicious of automation. Somehow Dr. Light had convinced them to take Elec Man on. He'd been allowed to supervise a fully-robot-operated nuclear plant. That was an enormous amount of responsibility, which Elec Man relished and took seriously.

Imagine if Cut Man were given that job! He'd be given one scram, maybe two, and then he'd be sent home with a polite but stern rejection letter.

Yet all that capacity for decision-making and right-thinking... it was useless. Every train of thought was derailed.

Rock was dead.

Nothing could get past that stumbling block. Their little brother, underpowered but sincere, turned into an endearingly overachieving crusader... now nothing but spare parts.

How could that have happened?

He was pulled out of his thoughts, confused jumble that they were, by sudden moving brightness. He focused on the new stimulus. Plumes of fire were emerging from the skull-shaped edifice before them. Three of them- three objects arcing in to the sky, wreathed in smoke and flame.

"Our schedule has changed," Wood Man said. "Those are the last three."

"The last three what?" Ice Man said. Elec Man was thankful for that. It was the sort of question he would have asked if he could think.

"Skull Satellites," Wood Man replied with relish. "Our father's trump card against the humans. Space-based lasers! Enough of them to zap anything the humans care for dearly."

"Like a robot disposal plant?" Fire Man said heatedly.

"I already took care of that," Wood Man replied. He gave a crooked look at Fire Man. "Are you going to say thanks, or what?"

Fire Man looked down, uncomfortably. "Knowing that... doesn't feel as good as I thought it would."

It took some time for the full meaning of these words to get into Elec Man's consciousness (so slow!). "So you're going to use the satellites to laser humans?"

"Only if they don't surrender," Wood Man said. "That was the plan, anyway. Now? Who knows?"

Elec Man felt, distantly, like this was crucial information. Like he would be free to act, now. The trouble was that he couldn't see what the next step actually was. "Does this mean you killed all the humans in the disposal plant?"

"Only the ones who insisted on staying. It's nothing compared to what you lot did."

"We had no choice about that," Ice hissed. "We didn't want those humans to die!"

"And what about the humans in the disposal plant?" Wood replied. "You didn't seem too concerned about them."

The Lightbots exchanged guilty glances. Ice Man tried to open his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Wood Man didn't know from dogs, but if he did, then the Lightbots' expressions would have reminded him of shamed dogs.

 _...or, by inaction, allow a human being to come to harm..._

Clarity filled Elec Man. He could see the power system like a trained nurse could see veins and arteries through the skin. Thunder Beam, applied correctly, would overcharge that system, blow the batteries and fuel to cinders, and take all four robot masters and more than a few of the escort robots down in flames. Glorious flames. Cleansing flames.

Absolution.

It was the still-lingering pillars of smoke from the satellite that stopped him. The fate of the world would hang on what happened to those lasers- and Elec Man didn't know what to do about them.

As the helicopters landed, his mind sank back beneath the waters of confusion.

* * *

The city was pre-planned, once upon a time, the result of compromise and grudging generosity. It had since become overgrown and overstuffed, with a supporting suburbia that sprawled for many kilometers around and, every year, assimilated another few acres. People aggregate around power and money, and the city was a nexus for both.

In the city was a building. The building was an office that billed itself as a dwelling. It could never be a home, not really, not when the longest a family could ever stay was eight years and its current occupants would never, ever be as celebrated or admired as its prior ones. That said, there were perks to living/working/existing in that building. Proverbially, it was where all of the bucks stopped.

In the building was an office. The office was the politician's sanctum sanctorum, the exclusive preserve of the men who, for four years at a stretch, could credibly call themselves the most powerful in the world. None entered without their pleasure, and none stayed with their displeasure.

In the office was a desk. It was possibly the most photographed desk on Earth. It was a prop in pictures taken to mark momentous occasions. Only the weightiest documents ever came to rest there. The rest were screened by a bureaucracy that existed for exactly that reason.

And on that desk was a phone. The phone was red. It had no means to dial, for it only ever called one number. If it were ever to ring, it would command the attention of whomever was in the office. Even on this most important of desks, in this most important of offices, in this most important of buildings, in this most self-important of cities, the phone was singular. It was a reminder that only so much could be controlled, or influenced, or even accounted for. To one way of thinking, the phone's red color could be seen as that of a stop sign, or maybe of a warning.

The phone rang.

It was answered.

"Yes?"

"This is just a courtesy, so you don't panic when you hear. There's only one. It's not headed for you or yours."

"...What have you done?"

* * *

"I must see Dr. Wily," Light said.

"He has expected this," Metal Man replied. "He has directed us to bring you and the Light Numbers to see him."

"The Light Numbers?" Light replied.

"We rescued them from the disposal plant," Metal Man said. "I thought that was implied. That's why we were there when we found Mega Man."

Light winced. Roll's face fell. She hadn't spoken since she'd heard the news. Death, Light knew, was hard enough for the young to accept, but for a species that used data links freely, that was used to connectedness at such a deep level, to be told that such a link was _gone_...

Once again, their escorts/captors didn't seem especially sensitive to Light and Roll's emotions. More prods and pushing got the Lights moving. No details stayed in their memories, though. They were in a foreign place, and their minds were elsewhere.

Eventually they came to a tee intersection. A crowd was already there.

"Dr. Light!" cried Cut Man, dashing forward.

"Cut Man," said Dr. Light, sounding almost relieved. "Are you..."

"You can fix him, right?" said Cut Man, eyes watering. He thrust his hands forward, putting Light face-to-face with Rock's head. Roll cried out insensibly and covered her mouth with her hands.

Light's jaw dropped. Grief- harsh reality- was staring him, literally, in the face.

"Of course you can fix him!" Cut Man repeated with broken, forced sincerity. "Take a look, I know you can figure something out!"

"Okay," said Light, even knowing it wouldn't work like that, at a glance he already knew... but if there was even a ghost of a chance- he couldn't just give up without trying... "Hold him still. Ice Man, come here. I'm going to disengage the helmet. Catch his head."

The smaller robot master came as ordered. Light reached in, closing his eyes to guide by touch, looking for the manual disconnect. There. He took a deep breath. "Here it comes."

Click, and he felt the head drop out. Roll immediately cried out. Light didn't want to open his eyes in any event, and that sound made him to want to never see again. No... he had to look, had to make this real. He forced his eyelids apart and looked down.

Ice Man's trembling hands held the head face-down. That exposed the laser's exit wound. The entry wound, the laser hole in Rock's forehead, hadn't looked like all that much- but it was the exit wound, as usual, which told the true story. The hole that had been bored in the back of Rock's head was triple in diameter to the one in front. Of course it was, a distant part of Light thought. After penetrating, the laser would be rotated to efficiently burn out all vital processors and memory. A dangerous robot, after all, had to be lobotomized, given no chance for its errors to propagate any more. Everything that it was, everything it ever could be, had to be destroyed. It was the only way to be sure.

Light knew all of this. The robots at the disposal plant, too, had borne the watermark of Light Labs.

The helmet slipped out of Cut Man's hands. He looked up at Dr. Light with tear-filled eyes. "He's... you can still save him, right?"

"There's nothing left to save," Dr. Light breathed.

Roll let out a wail and dropped to her knees, sobbing. Ice Man followed, cradling the head tightly against his stomach and rocking back and forth.

"Destruction confirmed," Metal Man said.

The rolling cutter was airborne before anyone else could think to react. Another metal projectile met it in midair. The two clanged away from each other.

"You are guests of Dr. Wily," Metal Man said, and though his tone was as steady as ever his eyes had narrowed. What looked like a circular saw was between his fingers. "And you are grieving, so I'll forget that happened. Once."

"Don't you get it?!" Cut Man said. "Rock is dead!"

"Beyond question," Metal Man replied. "Dr. Wily wanted to know for sure. And now, he wants to see all of you."

"I want to see him, alright," said Bomb Man darkly.

"But do you want us to see him?" Cut Man said, pulling his rolling cutter out from the wall into which it had sunk. He kept it in his hand.

"You are industrial robots," Metal Man said. "Not combat robots. And yet, Dr. Wily sees that you have value- he sees you as people. That's why he sent us to save you. The least you can do is listen to what he has to say."

"I will see him," Light said, laying a hand on Cut Man's shoulder, which caused the robot master to uneasily settle down. "Yes... we have a lot to talk about."

Metal Man nodded. "Then follow me."

* * *

Ichiro groaned and stirred. His body was so... heavy. There was no sound, though he could faintly feel something odd about his ears. He opened his eyes- then quickly closed them, as there was so much dust around. He tried to sit up. It didn't work. He frowned, and tried again. He didn't move at all. For that matter... his feet wouldn't move at all. He tried to wiggle his toes, but he couldn't feel them.

He brought his right arm up over his eyes to act as a shade. This time, when he opened his eyes, he craned his neck down to try and understand why his feet wouldn't move.

Oh.

That was a wall, wasn't it?

Strange that it didn't hurt. It looked like it would hurt. Oh... oh, that was why it didn't hurt. That didn't explain why he couldn't hear, though. Could it really be that quiet? Closing his eyes, he touched his hand to the odd sensation right below his ears. It felt wet on his fingertips. When he looked at them, he saw red.

Very dimly he remembered some sort of commotion... Takashi screaming...

"Takashi?" he said, looking around as much as he could (the dust was atrocious!). "Taka- there you are!" The other worker was lying closeby, on his back with his head near to Ichiro. "You gonna be okay?" Ichiro asked. "You don't look... hey! Are you listening?"

Ichiro strained to reach his coworker, but there was only so far he could move, what with the giant weight pinning him down. Eventually he caught a few wisps of Takashi's hair. "There!" said Ichiro, pulling Takashi's head towards him. "You gonna tell me why you aren't..."

He trailed off. Eventually he decided he didn't need to hold on to Takashi's hair.

Ichiro settled back down- he was just about out of strength from that little effort. He closed his eyes. It was a wrench trying to keep them open. Slowly, his lips curled into a smile. He almost laughed, but it came out as a sort of cough. "Hey, Takashi? You know what's funny?"

A wetness was spreading up Ichiro's abdomen. He hadn't noticed it at first, but with as few of his other senses as were working, he felt it now. His wife was going to kill him for staining his uniform again.

No, she wasn't.

"I'll tell you what's funny. It was just the other day- boss was nagging me about updating my corporate life insurance policy. I'd been blowing her off, honestly... but last week, I did it, just to shut her up. And now? Looks like it's gonna come in handy. Who'd have thought it? Boss was actually right about something..."

He smiled. "That'll make my wife happy, I'm... sure of it..."

* * *

"You're welcome."

Light was so taken aback he found it hard to speak. "For what?" he managed.

"For saving you," Wily said smugly. "But it's okay, I don't need thanks. I did it out of the kindness of my heart."

That innervated Light. His face tightened in a way his children had never seen. "You have some nerve, calling this kindness."

"I thought you'd appreciate me saving your children," Wily replied, managing to sound wounded. "The humans would have destroyed them if it weren't for me."

"Is that a sick joke?" Cut Man demanded. "We were only there in the first place because you reprogrammed us!"

"All part of the plan," Wily said smoothly. "I clean up after myself."

"So what?" said Cut Man. "You don't get credit for fixing something you broke!"

"You've got it all wrong, of course," Wily said seriously. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. Not yet. But Thomas- ah, surely he gets it. You and I have been around the block a few times, haven't we? We know better. I'm not the one who set you all up for destruction. I didn't put you in danger. You were in danger from the moment you were turned on. I just accelerated the crisis before too many people could be hurt."

Ice looked at Light. "What's he talking about?"

"Yes," agreed Light. "What are you talking about?"

Wily blinked in surprise. "Come now, Thomas, we've had this discussion," he replied angrily. "Racism is the problem. Inequality is the problem. Humans acting in accordance with their nature, like water running downhill. They're already so good at dehumanizing others. How much easier to demonize non-humans!" He waved a hand at the robot masters. "Just by existing you're a threatening, disturbing force to humans. You make them afraid, and that fear makes them a threat to you."

"That's why this plan of yours is insanity," Light said. "You can't defeat fear by justifying it. That's why I built Rock and Roll the way I did- to show how robots and humans can be family."

"And how did that turn out?" Wily deadpanned.

"It did work!" Light shrieked, his voice pitching unnaturally high. "It was real, it was..."

"This is why I tried to stop you, Thomas," Wily said unsympathetically. "This is the path you chose."

"Because it was the... right path..." Light tried to manage, but didn't quite get there.

"And now you have a dead son and the fear remains."

"Of course it does- you reinforced it!" Light said, recovering somewhat. "You're doing it wrong. The antidote to fear isn't more fear- it's love."

"And how many people understood your love for your family?" Wily said. "How many were inspired by it? No, less than that- how many people even _saw_ it? Bah. You're wrong and being bad at it. It's safer to be feared than loved."

"Don't you dare quote Machiavelli at me. You just said yourself that fearful people act dangerously."

"Or they don't act at all. You have to drive the fear further- past the tipping point where fear paralyzes." Wily's face was beaming, giddy in a way that made Light feel filthy. "That's what the Skull Satellites are for. With them, I can destroy no more than necessary to make my point. I will drive the fear just past the tipping point."

"That was your plan?" Light demanded. "Save robots by killing humans?"

"Yes," said Wily guiltlessly. "No more than necessary, because that would be wasteful, but yes."

"No." Guts Man spoke at last, drawing eyes away from the doctors for the first time. "I was built to create, not destroy. To help others... I won't let you hurt other people on my behalf. I would rather die."

"Sorry," said Wily, "but I'm saving you whether you like it or not."

"And what about Rock?" said Roll with such venom it shocked Light. "You were gonna save him by killing him, huh?"

"I didn't kill Rock," Wily said with a hand wave.

"But you meant to! That's what he said!" she said, jabbing a damning finger at Crash Man.

"I didn't want to kill Rock," Wily said, grudgingly. "It wasn't part of my plan. I didn't expect him to intervene like that, so I had to change my plan around him."

"And that plan was to kill him," Roll said.

"Mega Man was stronger than the First Numbers," Wily explained. "The First Numbers proved in their attack that they were too strong for the military. The Japanese Self-Defense Force was helpless before them. That meant Rock could have defeated the military, too, since he could beat the First Numbers. Then, when the Second Numbers killed Rock- publically- they'd prove their might beyond all question. No one in the world would be foolish enough to threaten us again."

"So... just to say your robots are best? You'd kill Rock for a trivial thing like that?" Roll spat.

"Trivial?" Wily said, anger rising. "It would guarantee the safety of all robotkind in perpetuity! Yes, child, I would absolutely sacrifice Mega Man on that altar."

"Except you wouldn't be the one sacrificing anything," Light rumbled. "That's not sacrifice- that's murder."

"Don't you dare accuse me of murder," Wily shot back. "The humans did all the murdering this time."

"He was there because of you!" Light said, with a wide-eyed fury even Wily had never seen. "Because you stole my sons from me! And you were planning to steal another!"

"Yes, I was going to take a son from you," Wily said. "But only one, and that to safeguard all the others. And I was going to give you another one back."

"What do you mean?" Light said. "What can you possibly mean?"

Wily didn't answer with words. Instead he pursed his lips together and tried to blow. Nothing came out but a stream of air. He tried again, still unsuccessfully. "Oh, whatever," he mumbled. "I never did learn to whistle. But you get the idea."

The Lightbots, stuck in confusion, looked to Light, who'd gone pale. "What's he talking about?" Roll asked.

"You know what I mean," Wily said, intensely. "It was going to be my way of making things up to you. I found him shortly after we went our separate ways. I've been working on him on the side, just a hobby. I haven't quite solved his power core issues, but I'm sure you could, given enough time."

Whatever reaction Wily was expecting, he didn't get it. "My family," Light roared, stepping forward with balled-up fists, "is not your plaything! It's not your place to decide who lives and dies, what they think and whom they fight! I'm not playing this game of yours, Wily!"

Behind him there was a crackling sound, then a sound a blade sliding into a hand, then one of pilot lights igniting.

"Don't even think about it," Wily growled. "I've gone to extraordinary lengths to save all of your children. Don't throw them away now. Make no mistake: you would be throwing them away." He gestured. Six of the Second Numbers had been watching the back-and-forth, fascinated, while staying out of the way and out of mind. Now they stepped forwards, reasserting their presence. "You're in my territory," Wily said. "The territory of my Masters. You know how dangerous that is, to be in another master's territory. And my Second Numbers are combat robots through-and-through. Your First Numbers are outclassed."

"Performance specs aren't everything," Light shot back. "You know that. Rock demonstrated that."

"Yes, he demonstrated how easy it is to die when one doesn't try to defend himself," Wily sneered. "Fine, if you want to think about it like that, _you_ killed Rock. You armed and equipped him and sent him against me. If you'd done nothing, he would have been safe."

"I reacted to his soul. I couldn't deny him that. Don't you remember? We gave robots souls so they could make this sort of choice!"

"Then he was doomed from the start because of the soul you gave him. The type of soul you gave him."

Light shook his head with his eyes clamped shut. "I won't apologize for making him a good person!"

"You don't have to apologize," Wily said. "Just own what you did- and that was introduce a good person into an evil world. That contradiction was always going to tear him apart. That's why I built the Evil Chip. But not you- you thought you could do better. So congratulations! You built a son whose life was always going to end tragically and violently. Good job."

After long seconds, Light raised his head. "If that was his choice," he whispered.

"Then you have no business being angry at me," Wily said righteously. "Be angry at the world. I already went through that phase. That's how I got here. That's how I made these choices."

Light took a deep breath, body trembling all the while. He exhaled over several seconds, and when he finished, his eyes came gently open. "You're still in the wrong," he said.

"Fine, fine," Wily said, rolling his eyes. "If it makes you feel better, sure, I'll say I'm wrong. But the world is even more wrong. So go with the greater good."

"Oh, yes," said Light. "I will act for the greater good."

Wily opened his mouth to thank Light, but stalled out. All around the room, the robot masters thought the same thing as Wily: what does _that_ mean?

* * *

Bubble Man's eyes narrowed. He sent a transmission to Quick Man. "The ships and planes I can see are headed away from my territory. What are you seeing?"

The response was immediate. "All non-Wily units are on courses directly away from Wily Island."

"Oh, good," replied Bubble Man. "Wait... all of them?"

"Yes."

"Did they all change course around the same time?"

"...yes. I'll inform Dr. Wily."

Bubble nodded absently, seeming for a moment to forget that the other person was far away and out of line of sight. This... didn't feel right. Where was everyone going? The plan had included plenty of possibilities for what Japan's military might do, ranging from full assault to remote observation. Fleeing... wasn't an expected outcome.

He hoped Quick would be able to get Wily to see this.

* * *

Wily and Light stared at each other. All around them, robot masters shifted and stirred anxiously.

 **"Sooo... are we going to fight each other, or what?"**

 _"Shut UP, Cut Man!"_

But all eyes shifted to Quick Man when he entered. "Dr. Wily," he said, "all traffic in the vicinity of Wily Island is now headed away."

"Good," grunted Dr. Wily. "They should be afraid."

"Wait..." said Dr. Light. "They're all headed away?"

"Yes, it is unusual," Quick said.

"At what speed? No, no," said Light, correcting himself. "At what percentage of their maximum speed?"

Dr. Wily gave Light a sharp look. He seemed at once upset at the implication that he'd missed something, and intrigued at what was on Light's mind. Quick missed this, and answered Light directly. "Very high, generally. Seventy-five percent and higher."

Light looked directly at Wily. His face was alarmed. "To avoid becoming collateral damage," he said.

Wily's brow furrowed over several seconds. "No matter," he said, though his tone didn't match the words. "We control the seas and skies around Wily Island. We could interdict any attack, and anyway, there's not a weapon they have that would be a threat to traffic that far... out..."

His frown deepened when Light's expression never wavered. "So that's what you're thinking," Wily said. "They wouldn't."

"My son is dead," Light said, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "I've paid the price for naïveté."

The scientists regarded each other. They were at a brief impasse, one that might have been broken had one of their robot masters spoken. But no- unlike their fathers, none of the robot masters was a child of the Cold War, so they didn't understand their fathers' concern, and said nothing.

Wily stood. "Alright, Quick, let's go to defense central. And you," he said, looking at Light, "you're coming with me. You're the one who did defense contracting way back then, when we needed the money to get as far as we did."

"That was a long time ago," Light replied, and when he spoke "long ago" sounded as if it was supposed to mean "never", but he went all the same.

Wily gave a snort. "Tell yourself whatever helps you survive."

Light sighed. "That's the difference between you and me."

"Ha! You only think it is. Quick Man!" Wily barked as they entered a monitor-rich room, winning the last point by changing the subject, "start scanning the sky. Focus your attention towards..." he looked meaningfully at Light.

"From the southeast towards the north," he said as if the words were squeezed out of him. "In low earth orbit- your radar can penetrate atmosphere, can't it Albert?"

"Hmph!" Wily huffed. "It's my radar, engineered to my designs, so of course it can. I needed to scan what was already in space before I could put my own satellites up there."

"What am I looking for?" Quick asked.

Wily gave Light a look, but Light didn't shrink. "What you're looking for," he said firmly, "is a nuclear-tipped intercontinental ballistic missile."

* * *

 _Next time: R is for Righteous_


	3. R is for Righteous

"An intercontinental ballistic missile," Wily said, repeating Light's words skeptically.

"It's coming," said Light. "You _know_ it is. There are countries out there that hate being threatened, and you declared war on them when you declared war on everyone. They'll act, soon, if they haven't already. You need to get out of here."

"Leave?" Wily scoffed. "Never. This island's location is protected. My technology..."

"Can't protect you from this!" said Light, losing his patience. "Wily, every major power can detect missile launches- even you don't have technology to conceal a kilometers-long trail of fire! The infrared plume of a satellite launch can't be hidden if anyone's looking, and you told the world you were launching before you did, so they were looking. Now they know where you are, and they have the trump card. You can't fight an ICBM with robot masters, Wily."

"Then I won't," Wily said glibly. "I'll fight them with the skull satellites. We just need to reprogram them."

Light didn't miss the change of pronouns. "We?"

Wily looked offended at having to specify. "You're going to help me, of course."

Light's eyes narrowed. His body took on the aspect of a bearded rock. "You killed my son," he rumbled.

Wily tore at his hair. "We can't be still having this discussion!" he howled. "It was the world that killed him, the same world that's trying very hard right now to turn all of us into radioactive debris! Do you want to be vaporized?"

Light didn't move, but in an active way, as if daring someone to try to move him so he could demonstrate how hard he could not-move.

"Really?" said Wily, eyes going wide. "You'd condemn your surviving children just to spite me?"

Light didn't even twitch. He was a gargoyle with hair. Just as Wily was about to start shouting and letting spittle fly, Light finally spoke. "We're only sixty kilometers off the shore of Japan," he said. "Japan is the only country to ever be nuked. I won't let that happen again. And there must be no such thing as a valid use of nuclear arms. That genie must stay in the bottle. Together, we'll shoot the missile down."

Wily still looked furious, but he nodded despite it. "That'll do."

* * *

Thousands of kilometers away, doors opened, revealing a hole in the ground. Fire spewed, smoke billowed, and a silvery needle-shape stabbed skywards. As it climbed, climbed, climbed, it seemed to bend backwards- an effect created as it declared its independence from gravity. It was a tremendous display of audacity and engineering, sound and fury, but for all the grandeur it was little more in effect than cargo delivery. What really mattered was not the rocket itself, but what it carried.

The cargo paid for all.

* * *

Wily handed Light a laptop. "There," he said as he sat down in front of a large monitor. "You know about missiles. You work on turning the lasers into anti-missile weapons."

"What about you?" Light said, flipping open what he was given. Wily being Wily, he seemed to have assumed that anyone inside his base was supposed to be there, so the laptop wasn't even password protected. It came right up for Light.

"I'll work on the targeting problem," Wily said. "That'll require some actual reprogramming. Most of what you need to do can be done outside the source code."

Light wondered very briefly if that was truly why Wily had divided the labor like that... but there was no time to ponder. Light immersed himself in the details of the satellite. Either Wily had been working on the satellites from the laptop or he'd smoothly brought up the relevant interface, because Light was face-to-face with the satellite's inner workings.

Here was his disadvantage. Wily was already familiar with them- he'd designed and built them, after all- almost immediately Light could hear the harsh chatter of Wily's furious typing. Light would have to learn about the satellites and their systems before he could bend them to his purpose.

This was less of a problem than it might seem. Even if Wily had more raw intellect than Light, that said more about Wily than Light. It was the difference between a one-in-a-billion genius and a one-in-ten-billion genius.

"This solar generation and storage system," he said after some minutes. "It's very good. It looks... well, it looks like Rock's."

"Don't get wistful on me," Wily countered. "I reused that tech because it was the best I could achieve without a sapient mind to govern cold fusion. I wasn't going to do that. Not for a laser satellite. It's a weapon, nothing more, and you don't give that much power to a brain with no soul."

"I'm guessing you sent them into orbit pre-charged?" Light asked.

"Of course. In case I had to fire immediately."

"Which we do. Are they unfurled?"

"Should be, by now."

"Alright, I'll assume we're charging then."

Wily frowned without looking back. "Why do you need to make that assumption? These lasers can vaporize large targets through atmosphere. Surely they can zap a missile through vacuum."

"Yes, but it'll take more than one shot."

"Missiles aren't that tough."

"No. It's because you'll miss. You're trying to hit a small, multi-mach target with an unguided weapon with no spread. And your targeting is... what, exactly?"

"Visual," Wily grumped. "I only included cameras on the satellites so they could record the effects of their fire. Why, I didn't even boresight the cameras to the lasers- I didn't think I needed to. Camera and laser both use good old latitude and longitude for targeting. I need a new, real-time feed from those cameras if we're using them to aim, and I need to adjust it so that the camera's field of view matches the laser, and so that the two move in tandem..."

"So it won't be accurate."

"It'll be extraordinarily precise," Wily grumbled. "Just not accurate."

"So if we're not accurate, we need as many shots as possible," Light confirmed. "That means I need to reduce power output to the bare minimum that'll penetrate missile skin. It doesn't have to punch all the way through- any sort of penetration or defect will cause the missile to tumble and burn up on reentry."

"Ha! We only have to get lucky once!" Wily exulted.

"I wouldn't count on that. There's MIRV to account for."

Wily actually cackled at that. "You really think they'll- oh, who am I kidding. Of course they will. If they're willing to nuke us, surely they'll overnuke us. I would. I would hit me with every warhead on the missile." He cracked an insane grin. "Now they only have to get lucky once. One lucky hit and the age of robotics ends before it really begins."

"Not today," Light said grimly.

"That's right! That's the spirit. Ha ha, so you will fight when pressed after all!"

"Wily..." Light growled warningly.

"What? Are you done?"

Light started to say something, but choked it off first. When he spoke, it was a non sequitur. "The skull satellites that will be protecting Wily Island... they're in geosynchronous orbit?"

"Yes. Why?"

"That means they'll be shooting almost directly down at Earth..."

"So?"

"So we're going to be taking lots of shots with a bombardment laser, and we're going to be missing a lot. Which means we'll be hitting Earth a lot. I'm worried about collateral damage."

"You shouldn't be," Wily said darkly. "Whoever launched the missile wasn't."

"I'm not like that," Light replied. "I won't sacrifice others so that I can..."

"Though now that I think about it," Wily muttered, seemingly to himself but loudly enough to override Light, "if the missiles are aimed here, there is some risk that a laser will strike Wily Island. The power should be low enough to avoid major damage, but why take the chance?" A hand strayed from its usual position to call up a radio circuit. "Air Man! I want some clouds."

"Just clouds?" A confused reply.

"Fine, fine, a storm if you must, but the objective is clouds. Lots of clouds. _All_ the clouds, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Extend them out to the north and east as you're able, but ensure complete coverage of Wily Island at all times."

"Understood."

He hung up, and for a moment, typing and clicking were the only sounds. After a while, Light said, quietly, "Thank you, Wily."

"Don't get any ideas. Your whining was going to be a distraction."

"Will it be enough?"

"Ha! Never underestimate my robots. In the first case, clouds are the not-so-secret weakness of lasers. And in the second place, I take the term 'robot master' very seriously. Air Man can generate typhoons. He can handle a few clouds."

"Good."

"Dr. Wily," came Quick Man's voice.

"What now?" Wily cranked.

"I've detected a probable missile."

Wily grunted. "Are you happy now, Light?"

"I'm incredibly said," Light said with a sigh.

"Well, get over it! It's bad enough that you're right again, but it's much less fun to hate you if you don't own it."

Light frowned. "How can you be worried about having fun at a time like this?"

"I've always held it's important to enjoy what you do. Quick Man!"

"Yes?"

"How long until the missile hits?"

"At present speeds, twenty minutes."

"Knock five minutes off of that," said Light. "When the missile goes for reentry it will be much, much faster."

Wily hmped. "So, fifteen minutes to doomsday, then."

Light didn't answer.

"Don't get quiet on me now. I know you can keep up a conversation while we work. Don't clam up now just to prove you're taking this seriously."

Light still didn't answer.

"Oh, come on. We've done this plenty of times, haven't we? Pooling our brainpower, attacking problems in parallel to solve..."

"I don't want to talk to you, Wily!" Light snapped.

Wily's mouth opened in surprise, shut, opened again in anger, snapped shut. His face morphed into a grimace. Light's was like flint. He knew full well how hurtful his words had been.

* * *

 _"...so, it's not enough to simply add processors. That by itself doesn't make the robot smarter, let alone more human-like. Neurons are electrical connections like circuits, yes, but ones that can react with varying degrees of intensity. The richness is in the number of connections, and the forging of new connections that take unrelated thoughts and aggregate them, recombine them..."_

 _"Who are you talking to?" Light asks._

 _"Huh?" says a young Wily, head jerking around in surprise. Dark, spiky hair crowns a youthful face. The soldering iron is still faintly smoking in his hand. "No one," he says merrily. "No one understands." He turns back to the circuit card he's working on._

 _"It's not distracting?"_

 _"Trying to keep it all in my head is more distracting," Wily says. "I can't keep it all in. I'll talk, whether there's anyone to hear me or not."_

 _"Well," Light says reasonably, "why not share your ideas with other people? Since you're going to talk anyway."_

 _"Wrong question," Wily replies, almost too cheerily. "Why would I share my ideas? Why would I bother? Why would I do that to myself?"_

 _It's clear the words are intended to end the conversation, but Light immediately replies, "Because they're good ideas."_

 _Wily reacts in stages. First his hands still. Then his head comes back from its droop, restoring itself atop Wily's neck. Then he turns, giving Light a suspicious look._

 _"The trick, like you said," Light says, "is to make it so that new connections can be formed organically. Some rules are necessary, but they should be ones that encourage connections rather than limit them. Otherwise, how could the mind ever grow?"_

 _For a long moment, Wily looks at Light with wide eyes, and then he smiles in sheer delight. "Ha ha! You're on to something, you really are. I think there's another subtle point to be made here..."_

* * *

"So you're saying I don't have good ideas any more?" Wily said, quietly. "Is that it? Is that all it ever was?"

"I thought you were having fun hating me," Light said.

The sarcasm caught Wily offguard. He didn't like it. "And I thought you weren't speaking to me," he said nastily.

"There is a bright, clear line between your ideas and Rock's death," Light said.

"Point a finger at me, and four more point back at you," Wily snarled, and his typing became even more furious and harsh. Some choice swear words punctuated deletions and revisions. "Extend the line a little further," he continued, "and it gets to you and your ideas. We're still in this together. Just as we always were. Rivals, yes... but in our own league, outside the rest of the world."

"I didn't want to be outside the world," Light said. "I built robots to help humans- to be part of that world."

"Then you have received your just reward," Wily said. "Switch in thirty seconds!"

No more words were necessary. When half a minute had passed, Wily stood and pivoted around to where Light was sitting. Light tidied up what he was doing, stood, and moved to where Wily had been. In a moment, the two were looking over the other's work. It was a well-practiced move, one that tempted Light to think about how many times they'd done just that... but he didn't. Wily was able to while working, using his secondary train of thought, and he indulged the instinct for a moment before refocusing.

They worked quickly and quietly. They fell back into the mind of the other. It was a vaguely familiar yet still foreign place. There's only so close two people can be. Yet if they couldn't get in each other's heads, who could?

It's a rhetorical question.

"This... really is amazing code," said Light, after several seconds. "I wouldn't have thought to do it this way."

Wily grunted in affirmation. "Your changes to the cooling system- you always were a master of optimization."

They combed through the work each had done, picking at any mistakes, tightening up what could be tightened. Their typing was less frequent now, making the difference between Wily's stacatto jabs and Light's gentle finessing that much more obvious.

"There," Wily said after some time. "That should do it. Thomas?"

"Done here," Light said, pushing away.

"Ha!" crowed Wily. "Are we good or what? Who else could do what we just did?" His face was giddy, his eyes alight.

"We haven't done anything yet," Light replied. "The missile's still coming."

"Details, details," said Wily. "Quick! Get in here!"

* * *

"Go deep."

"What?" replied Bubble Man, confused. "I thought I was on patrol."

"The JSDF withdrew," Metal Man said. "So that's not needed. And we're about to start lasering the area. Air Man's making clouds, and the lasers wouldn't get much into the water anyway, but why take the chance?"

"I'll be out of communications if I do that," Bubble Man warned.

There was a short period of dead air. "Actually," said Metal Man, more carefully, "come back. We might need you here."

"Huh," said Bubble Man. He sent his robots a recall order, then set out for Wily Island himself. Why would Metal Man need Bubble Man to come back? They were in Wily Island. It was the safest place that they could be. Wily Island had plenty of defenses. It had the other Second Numbers. It had Quick Man. Why did they need Bubble Man back there?

Unless the enemy was already there... were the Lightbots being uppity? It didn't make any sense, but that was the only possible reason Metal Man would be so concerned...

Bubble Man primed his speargun.

* * *

Speed and mass are typically antithetical. The heavier something is, the more energy it takes to accelerate it, which means a larger and heavier source of motion, meaning more power to move that, all of which adds weight, which cycles back to where things started. Thus it was confusing to Light, at first, why Quick Man was called that. If, well, _quickness_ was the goal, why was Quick the largest of the Second Numbers, nearly as large as Guts Man?

He couldn't know, just from looking, but Wily hadn't been set on speed alone. The Second Numbers were combat robots. It wasn't enough to move at high speeds: Quick Man would also have to fight at high speeds. That meant he'd need far better reaction times and faster processes than the typical robot master. And that meant extra processors and a lot of extra memory, which in turn meant more power, space, weight, and cooling. It meant having Quick Man's nervous system become the driver of his physical parameters.

Quick Man wasn't smarter, exactly, than the other Second Numbers. He was no cleverer. But he was faster on the uptake. So as Light walked him through the new interface, nothing needed to be repeated.

"Then you'll... really?" Light said, losing his train of thought at the sight of the joystick Wily was installing into the console.

"Of course," Wily said indignantly as he finished the wiring job. "All of the targeting is analog, natural experience stuff, touch and feel and sight. The controls should be, too."

"And you just happened to have a joystick on hand?"

"Don't judge me," Wily sniffed. "Have you gotten to the latency problem yet?"

"Almost. So... there's a reason you're going to have to take so many shots. It's not enough to just line up the reticle. You have to lead, a lot. You lose time in the processing- the computers on the satellite aren't that quick to react, they weren't supposed to be used in a time-critical application- and you lose time in transmission. On this scale, the speed of light isn't instant anymore. The camera feed lags a tenth of a second plus latency on our end. Your commands lose latency here, a tenth of a second in transmission, and latency in the satellite, plus another tenth of a second or so for the laser beam itself to hit the target."

"Roughly," Wily said, slamming the panel shut with more force than was strictly necessary. "We can't provide him with great numbers, so he'll just have to experience it."

"I added that last bit into the targeting program," Light said. When Wily turned, he elaborated modestly, "I just took the offset you'd already programmed and reused it while we were swapped."

For a dangerous moment, Wily looked at him intensely. Then he reared his head back and laughed. "Ha! I'd expect nothing less from my rival! I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Now Quick Man, come on, grab a hold and start playing with it."

Quick stepped forward as Wily demanded. "There, now start moving the controls. Move it around- now play with the zoom."

"Give him some space," Light said. "And some quiet."

Wily scoffed. "Nonsense. I built his mind, I know he can handle multiple independent processes at once."

"Lasers are invisible outside of a medium," Quick said. "How will I know where my shot went?"

"The clouds," said Wily with a smug look at Light. "That's the real reason we needed them. The clouds will provide the backdrop you need. The laser will stand out against them."

"It'll be very small at these distances," Quick pointed out.

"I built your optics well enough for things like this," Wily scowled, "and you'll be zoomed in on the camera. Oh, don't forget to add in another quarter-second or so when you're judging where your shot hit- tenth of a second from the clouds to the satellite, latency, tenth of a second satellite to us, latency... you get the idea. Take some shots, already, you don't have time to waste dallying!"

"Wily," Light protested.

"I'm not wrong," Wily snapped. "Now's not the time for nice."

Light looked like he wanted to say something, but he let it pass.

"How many shots do I have?" Quick asked.

"As many as you need," Light said. "Practically speaking, the missile will probably hit before you run out of energy. With the power dialed back like this and the cooling system reworked, you'll be limited only by your accuracy and laser recycle time- which is about two seconds, so it's not like you can just spray lasers down rapid-fire and hope to connect by volume."

"Good idea for my next project," Wily said, crossing his arms. "Along with a robot- no, a robot _master_ to safeguard this space infrastructure... emphasis on defensive capabilities... hm." He turned and began to stalk towards the door. "Let's go, Thomas."

"Wily," Light called after him, caught off-guard by the other's sudden departure.

"What?" Wily bit. "He has everything he needs, all the rest comes through practice. We've done everything we could. We're done here. Now we can work on something else."

"Nothing else is as important as this," Light replied.

"And what would we do now?" Wily said caustically. "Motivate him? Fine." Wily looked at Quick Man's back and unhinged his jaw. "You'd better shoot that missile down, Quick Man! I can't stand the thought of losing to something so... crude as a nuke. Don't you dare fail me!"

"Understood," Quick Man said flatly. Obligatorially.

"There, he's motivated," Wily said, spinning and jamming his hands into his lab coat's pockets. "Now we go."

Light stared at his fellow scientist's back. Wily's back was hunched, his head angled down- with all that and his hands in his pockets, he resembled a vulture. A resentful vulture. "Powerlessness doesn't suit you," Light called to him.

The only answer was a middle finger raised over Wily's shoulder as he walked through the door.

Light gave one more glance at Quick Man, then hustled after Wily. When he got back to the room where they'd been before, the various robot masters were milling about like confused sheep- all except Metal Man, who was speaking in hushed tones with Dr. Wily. Light looked at them for another moment before calling, in tones quiet but carrying, "Roll."

She still looked lost and distraught, but she came to him quickly. Light motioned over his shoulder. "Go help out Quick Man."

"Help out?" Roll replied as if she hadn't heard. "How?"

"Just be there for him. He could use some encouragement," Light said. The corners of his mouth ticked slightly up. "Just like you were for Rock. Everyone needs someone cheering them on."

Her mouth tightened grimly as he spoke. When he was done she gave a curt nod and moved towards defense central.

Light looked back to Wily, who was standing amidst his robot masters. "Sooo," he said, giving Light a shrewd look, "the only rational thing to do now is assume Quick will shoot the missile down. If he doesn't, after all, we'll hardly miss this time. So if he succeeds, what happens next?"

The First Numbers wordlessly formed a ring around Light. "Yes," he said. "What does happen next?"

* * *

Roll frowned as she looked at the broad expanse of Quick Man's back. What did Dr. Light expect her to do, exactly?

In front of her, Quick was hunched over his console, nearly stationary but for small motions in his right arm. Roll had seen this sort of thing before, in Dr. Light- concentration so focused it was as if the body fell away. She shouldn't interrupt that, no- she needed to stay away. Let him focus.

It surely wasn't that she was scared. Of course she wasn't scared! Why would she be scared? She wasn't scared.

Hm. Her knees were knocking together. She must be malfunctioning. She needed Light to take a look at her later.

 _Help out._

She'd taken three steps before she remembered she was scared. (Not scared, of course, just... prudent.) At this range she could hear the quiet clicks of Quick Man working the controls. There were... an awful lot of them. He was very active, then. Best to keep out of his way.

 _Help out._

But how? Roll thought after another couple of steps. She could see, a little, what Quick Man was doing. The rapid motions, especially the in-and-out zooming of the camera, were dizzying. It was hard enough for her to follow- certainly she couldn't do anything to help with it. No, the easiest and surest way to keep Quick Man's performance up was to not drag it down.

She needed to... to...

 _Everyone needs someone cheering them on._

She slid along the side of Quick Man's form, walking into his line of sight. "Um," she started.

Quick Man's eyes and head swiveled the bare minimum amount to bring her into his view, then returned.

"Ganbate," she said, timidly raising a fist.

Quick blinked. "What does that mean?"

Roll's fist, so small besides Quick Man's large, armored frame, fell to her side. "Didn't Wily give you Japanese language files?"

"Some," Quick said. "They're limited."

That made Roll feel strangely happy. "It doesn't directly translate," she said. "It's encouragement, and "you go", and "do your best", and "work hard", and "we're with you"- a little bit of all of that."

"Ganbate," Quick Man repeated, without even his eyes moving. "I see."

"I work with Japanese language speakers all the time," Roll went on. "English may be the language of robotics, but we live in Japan, so the people I encounter..." She frowned. "Dr. Wily doesn't let you out much, does he?"

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth she covered it with her hands. "Oh! I'm sorry, I- sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Quick Man didn't make any response, and slowly Roll's alarm faded. She collected herself, smoothed her dress down, and raised her fist again- more confidently, this time. "Ganbate, Quick Man!"

Quick Man didn't clearly respond. He kept doing what he was doing. Roll began to get the rhythm of it: starting zoomed out, he would move the camera's field of view until the missile (that's a missile! Roll thought) was on the left border. Then he would zoom in, place the crosshairs in the missile's path, and squeeze the trigger. Roll couldn't tell what that was supposed to do, but afterwards Quick would zoom out and start over.

His voice startled her. "You're Roll, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," she replied.

"Mega Man's sister."

Roll looked down. "Yes."

Quick lagged in speaking. "Would that he hadn't died," he said at last.

"I miss him," Roll said. "It took me a while to really feel it, but... I do now. It's sort of like... sort of like when my robots were destroyed. There's the emptiness- the lack- it's a connection I'd had, and it's gone now, and not coming back. Ugh, that's such a bad comparison, though. Rock wasn't just a robot. He was... he was..."

She couldn't put her finger on it. Quick offered, "...your brother?"

"Yes," Roll said, and for a moment she lost her composure. Her eyes clamped shut to try to squeeze the tears back. It didn't work. But neither did the sensation keep hold of her for long. "So you'd better shoot that missile down, Quick Man," she said, voice thick with a sob, "because I don't want to lose any more brothers. I know you don't, either. You're the one who can help us. Ganbate, Quick Man!"

Click. Click. Click.

Roll's fist- which she didn't even remember raising- wavered. She was distracting him, she was hurting everyone-

"I was created to destroy Mega Man," Quick Man said with his usual abruptness.

Flop went Roll's fist. "Is that so?" she said tremulously.

"But," Quick Man went on, "I think now that if I had... it would have been such a waste."

Before Roll could come up with any sort of reply, motion on the screen caught her eyes. "What's that? Is it breaking up? Did you hit it?"

"No," said Quick Man. "I was close, but I missed. It split on its own." He nodded to himself. "Multiple warheads."

Multiple warheads? Now they had five- seven- many targets to hit? She staggered. "I should go," she said quietly.

"No!" he said, sharply, and the narrowing of his eyes was almost as stern a rebuke. "No," he said, calmer. "You stay."

Click- and even Roll recognized this hit for what it was, as one of the apocalyptic warheads went tumbling and smoking to its demise.

"Ganbate," she whispered.

* * *

"As always, this is Nakamura Charley here on CapTV. These are disturbing times we live in, but we here at CapTV will do our best to get you the information you need, one step ahead of... hold- hold on, we have a new report coming in... That- double-check that, that can't be...

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're getting a new order for all citizens. Everyone in Japan is hereby ordered to shelter in place. Wherever you are, stay there. There's a radiological alert being issued for... all of Honshu? Ladies and gentlemen, we will get more details as they come in, but for now, please understand, if you are on the island of Honshu you need to take shelter and don't leave until the authorities have sorted out what's going on. And- and a new report coming in...

"...don't tell me I'm not cleared to know why we're sheltering! We have a hundred million citizens who need to know why they're taking cover!

"...you can't be serious.

"...so what now?

"What do you mean, ' _no one knows'_?!"

* * *

"He got them!" Roll crowed as she and Quick Man returned to the others. "He shot all the warheads down, we're..."

Before her, Light and Wilybots were clustered along family lines.

"...safe?" she finished.

"Very good," said Wily. " _Very_ good. My robots could have withstood any conventional attack. Now the world knows we can resist even the deadliest weapons." He gave Light a wicked grin. "I'm invulnerable now, and you helped me get there. Thanks for that!"

Light seemed tired, stretched, but he rallied at Wily's words. "Not invulnerable," he said. "Not with us here."

"You think so?" Wily said, sensing weakness. "Six industrial robots against eight combat robots?"

"That's not the only thing that matters," Light replied. "You should know that, because..."

He couldn't finish the sentense, and it made Wily smirk. "You were going to say something like, 'Rock proved that', weren't you? How many times are you going to run into that wall? Rock proved nothing, other than that humans will kill anyone."

"So will you," Light said.

Wily rolled his eyes. "If you have any thoughts of a heroic last stand, you should have just let the nukes hit us. But no, you helped me shoot them down. So now you're on my side, like it or not."

"Never," Light said.

"Like it or not," Wily repeated, more slowly, as if he'd been misheard. "You helped me, and your robots were seen going along with mine. We're on the same side now, as far as the world is concerned. And that's great! Now it's us against the world. Just like it always was, just like it should be."

"This is what drove us apart before!" Light roared. "Your sense of privilege- your conceit that just because you're smarter than other people that no one else matters. No. I- we- won't let you kill people just because you feel like it."

The mood around Light changed. He glanced around at the First Numbers. None of them could meet his eyes. All were looking away. "What is it?" he asked.

"They already let me kill," Wily said. "Wood Man here leveled the robot disposal plant that killed Rock. The human operators of the plant died in the process... and your robots did nothing." He leered triumphantly as the First Numbers were overcome by shame. "I was impressed by that. I didn't think you Lightbots had it in you! Those humans deserved to die, but still."

All of the fight seemed to leave Light.

"So you see," Wily went on, "you're out of options. You're on my side, like it or not."

Light closed his eyes.

"Now, let's get some action." Wily smacked a wall, which caused a panel to lift. The screen there featured controls for the skull satellites, very similar- sans joystick- to the ones in defense central. Wily tapped a button. Thirteen locations lit up on the globe, and all thirteen satellites were surrounded by a glow.

"Thirteen locations will be a start," Wily said. "One per satellite. We're starting with monuments and other symbols. Striking at icons will prove how powerful the skull satellites are without causing too much actual damage. The Statue of Liberty- Angkor Wat- the Giza Pyramids- that sort of thing."

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Light said. "You can't build anything by destroying."

"On the contrary, you can build a reputation. _Civis romanus sum_."

Light frowned. "'I am a citizen of Rome'?"

"Exactly. They say that a man could go from London to Jerusalem in absolute safety so long as he could say those words." Wily's eyes were alight. "When I started this plan, I wanted to rule the world. I don't any more. Why would I want to rule pitiful creatures like humans? That's rhetorical- I wouldn't. They've proved how unworthy, how _primitive_ they are. No, I don't want to be a king. I want to be a _god_. I'll create robot masters, let them go about and do what they want... and loose my lightning against any who'd harm them."

"You've lost it," Light said.

"I don't know if you're saying that because you disagree or you can't see what I do," Wily said with a note of disappointment. "It's so clear! And the first step is perfectly clear: punish them for killing Rock." Wily gestured at the panel. "If you'd do the honors?"

"I can't believe you'd say that," Light replied.

"This world hurt you," Wily hissed. "It took your son. Take an eye for yours. You're already outside the world- in for a penny, in for a pound. If you're going to be on my side, be all the way on my side."

"You still think I want to be on your side," Light sighed.

"You're weakening," Wily said. His eyes danced with fire. "You can barely deny your feelings at this point. It's because you know I'm right. You _know_. And you know you don't want your other sons to die."

"I'd rather die than kill many people for no reason," Light said, regaining some of his earlier conviction. He looked around at his sons. "We may have made mistakes, yes. That doesn't mean our only choice is to make an even bigger mistake."

"This is it, then," Wily said, eyes narrowing. "Decide the fate of your family now, Light. Fight for the steel- or die beneath my heel. It's up to you."

"You'd use the skull satellites for Rock's sake?"

The doctors looked in surprise at the speaker. Quick Man's stoic visage betrayed nothing, and for a time both doctors wondered if he'd actually spoken. "That's what you'll use them for, then?" he reiterated.

"Well, I'm glad someone's been paying attention," Wily quipped, but with a suspicious expression.

"It's not your place," said Quick Man.

"What's that?" Wily snapped.

"You are not the one who acts for Rock," Quick Man said. "That is not your place. It is not your area of mastery."

"Come over here," Wily said, gesturing to his side. "Come here, Quick Man!"

Quick Man didn't budge. "The one who knows Rock best... is her." He looked down to a very surprised Roll. "This is her area of mastery. She will decide how the satellites will be used."

"They're mine!" Wily howled. "They're not hers- or yours, for that reason. Come to heel, Quick Man."

There was a sound something like ka-chunk, and a blur surrounding Quick's right arm. Before anyone could process it, an obscenely large boomerang was in Quick's hand. Its edge gleamed far more than it seemed like it should.

All the other robot masters took a half-step backwards.

"The satellites will avenge Rock- or not," he said. "She's the master of Rock. Therefore the satellites are hers. Does anyone dispute this?"

Wily looked around at the other Second Numbers. None of them seemed in any mood to dispute Quick Man over anything. Technically Quick was outnumbered seven to one, and somehow he was the majority. That made Wily grind his teeth together so hard it seemed like one might pop out. His head snapped around to look at Light. Light wasn't moving, and he returned the gaze steadily. "What did you do to him?" Wily's expression seemed to say.

"It's never not the time for nice," Light said.

"Robots with souls," Wily muttered as if it were a curse. His expression was one of outrage, but when Quick Man stepped forward, he found himself out of options. Slowly, the balding doctor moved away from the panel.

Roll looked up at Quick Man, a puzzled expression on her face. He looked down at her. "Ganbate, Roll," he said.

Her eyes widened. It took a moment for the words to work their way all through her. When they did, she set her expression, gave a firm nod, and stepped in front of the panel.

The button marked "Fire" was flashing at her.

Should she push it? Avenge Rock? Save all robot masters, now and in the future?

But she was also a Lightbot. If she did this, Dr. Light might never forgive her. The other First Numbers might not, either. Unless they did- they were family, and they had to be feeling the same things she was feeling. But still, to willfully hurt so many people...

Oh, she thought. This is a false dichotomy. There aren't only two choices. I could choose to shoot the lasers. I could choose to shut them down, keep Wily from using them.

Or I could choose... to do nothing.

Wily has a point. The humans did kill Rock, and if they'd kill him, they'd kill any of us. Especially after we fled like we did. It's not safe for us, any more, or any of our kind. Maybe I should let Wily protect us.

Is that even sane? Or is it just a way to keep my own hands clean? Let myself say it's not my fault...

What would Rock do?

What would Rock want me to do?

She looked at the control panel.

 _Except that he's dead_.

"Rust this," Roll said. And chose.

* * *

 _Fin_


End file.
